


The Flower Bloomed in Darkness

by unleashthebatsx



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Body Image, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 17:44:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13012914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unleashthebatsx/pseuds/unleashthebatsx
Summary: To put it bluntly, Minseok hates himself. He hates his body; the way he can grab fistfuls of fat without even having to slouch, and how tight shirts don’t look right but baggy ones just make him appear even stockier. He’s never felt good enough to be loved. Not by anyone.And especially not by Luhan.





	The Flower Bloomed in Darkness

To put it bluntly, Minseok hates himself. He hates his body; the way he can grab fistfuls of fat without even having to slouch, and how tight shirts don’t look right but baggy ones just make him appear even stockier. He hates his face, his stupid round cheeks which are constantly being pinched and his jawline which just blends into his neck. He hates the way he is hyper aware of how he looks at all times, and he particularly hates the stupid flush that comes to his face any time someone actually pays attention to him. He’s never felt good enough to be loved. Not by anyone. 

And especially not by Luhan. 

-

‘We’ll mark last lesson’s homework now,’ their Literature teacher announces, standing authoritatively in front of the class. Ms Kim eyeballs a few kids who sit to the side of the room, sheepishly avoiding eye contact. Presumably, they don’t want to let on that they haven’t completed yesterday’s task. She knows this. Minseok likes   
that about her. She always knows who pays attention. 

Minseok leans down to retrieve his backpack. He sorts through his papers in a rush, searching for the piece with his carefully thought out answers written on it.   
He’s purposeful in keeping his head down, hoping the teacher wouldn’t be as cruel to pick on him to share his responses to the class. It wasn’t that he hadn’t done the homework – he could do Lit with his eyes closed – rather it was that he was terrified of speaking up in front of his entire class and sounding like a know-it-all. A teacher’s pet. As such, it’s not hard for Minseok to convince himself that it’d be better for everyone if he keeps his mouth shut. 

While other students extend their opinions, Minseok quietly marks his own work against their ideas. He circles in red ink things he needs to change. Making additions and corrections all over the page, soon nearly the whole sheet is covered in red handwriting. He sighs softly, unable to make out his carefully scrawled answers anymore underneath all the new bright ink. _You’re meant to be good at this stupid subject, you idiot,_ he thinks to himself. He tugs on a strand of hair at the nape of his neck and biting down hard on his already chewed bottom lip. He tries not to get worked up about it and suppresses the lump in his throat; it’d be the literal end of him if he started crying in the middle of class. 

An easy, familiar voice pulls him out of his focus, making Minseok glance up quickly at the speaker. Luhan doesn’t offer his ideas that often in class, but when he does it’s like the whole world stands still just to listen. Or at least to Minseok it appears that way. He watches the delicate boy speaking, eyes glued to him, not taking in much of what he is saying but instead just listening to the natural rise and fall of his voice as he articulates. Luhan’s much more pleasant without his douche-bag friends around. 

Minseok fights to keep the small smile that threatens to spread over his whole face just that: small. Unnoticeable. He knows it’s better if no one could guess at how he felt. 

Minseok ducks his head again when the boy finishes speaking and refocuses his attention onto a particularly interesting corner of his text book. He stays that way for the rest of the lesson, successfully avoiding any sort of confrontation which is just the way he prefers it to be. When the bell rings Minseok packs away his stationary and smartly makes his way to the door before attention can be called to him. 

****

‘Jongin! Pass the ball!’

Kids dart across the field in their sports shorts and t-shirts, calling out to one another. Minseok keeps up as well as he can with the much fitter kids, though admittedly he does get a little lost in the game of – actually, Minseok doesn’t quite know what game they’re playing. He jogs up and down the length of the field following the ball, feeling his thighs jiggle with each step and his face begin to flush dark with exertion. 

The teacher oversees the game, blows the whistle when necessary and quickly settling disputes between the unnecessarily aggressive students. For the most part, Minseok just tries to look like he’s being a productive member of his team so he isn’t targeted by anyone. In their class it was either participate or be sent on a run for the rest of the lesson. Minseok could do without the embarrassment and asthma that would give him. 

Somehow, he all of a sudden finds himself right in the middle of the whirlwind action of sweaty body parts and overcompetitive peers. Minseok’s brain disengages in the panic, unable to keep up, leaving his body deserted. He stands frozen and glued to the spot whilst kids jostle and surround him, elbows and knees knocking him one way or another in their struggle to gain possession of the round white ball they chase. Distantly he hears someone shout his name, before the ball collides with the side of his face and he’s knocked straight to the ground. 

Minseok groans, breath coming short and quick and a sharp throb in his skull. He squeezes his eyes shut against the bright pain, lifting an arm to cover his eyes as he internally assesses the damage of his fall: he’s a little winded and the area that the ball hit smarts, not to mention the pain in his ass from landing on it so heftily. He feels warmth trickling down his face, and his suspicion is confirmed when he wipes at his nose and is greeted by the scarlet shock of blood on the back of his hand.   
He rests a moment more in the dirt before struggling to sit up. The game had resumed without him, though his teacher stands over him worriedly. 

‘Are you alright?’ he asks carefully. 

‘I think I might sit this one out,’ Minseok replies quietly, cheeks reddening furiously, wiping at his nose again with the heel of his hand and smearing blood all over his face. 

The teacher nods and helps him to stand with a steady hand on his elbow, then waves him over to the changing rooms somewhat apologetically. 

Minseok walks stiffly back to the changing rooms and hastily redresses before locking himself in a cubicle. Now sheltered from his classmate’s eyes, he slumps against the wall for support. Sliding down to sit on the grotty tiled floor next to the toilet, he pulls lengths of tissue from the dispenser to stem the light flow of blood still trickling from his nose. 

Softly, he lets out the tears he had held in. How embarrassing! How could his body have betrayed him like that, to leave him stranded in the middle of the field! Worse, his classmates had seen him be knocked down and not one of them cared enough about him to check whether he was alright. Truthfully, he wasn’t all that surprised, but that didn’t mean it didn’t still hurt his heart. 

_You’re so fucking worthless! No to mention stupid and fat and disgusting! You can’t do anything right at all! Honestly, this is why everyone hates you! Especially Luhan. Who could ever love someone as awful and revolting as you?_

He slowly cries his way to an even nastier headache than the one he already had; clear snot runs from his nose which had eventually stopped bleeding and his eyes are irritated and puffy. He knows he looks like a pathetic wreck without even seeing himself and he wonders how he’ll be able to clean himself up before next period. 

When he hears the other students enter the changing room, having finished their game, he quickly quiets himself. They chatter loudly whilst changing, though after a few minutes the noise level starts to lower as they slowly filter out the door to their next class. He lets out a loud, shaky breath and sniffs a couple times. He swipes at his face vaguely with a wad of tissue as he tries to prepare himself to leave the cubicle. 

Someone’s faint footsteps make their way to Minseok’s ears; his breath stills as he listens carefully and hopes to not be noticed. 

‘Minseok?’ the person asks. 

Minseok sharply inhales at the voice, and curses under his breath. It really is just his lucky day. 

Luhan gently makes his way over to the cubicles where Minseok is sheltering. 

‘Are you in there?’ Luhan asks quietly. 

‘Y-yes, why?’ Minseok sullenly replies, voice scratchy and unsteady. 

‘Can I come in?’ the other boy requests. 

Minseok pauses, quickly wiping any remaining tears and/or snot from his face onto his sleeve, desperately attempting to look somewhat presentable before answering. Luhan jiggles the lock, managing somehow to unlock it from the outside. He pushes open the door, stepping in to the small cubicle with Minseok, then locks the door again behind him. 

Luhan turns to face Minseok, who’s puffy face is clearly streaked with tear stains. 

‘Are you alright? I’m sorry about what happened out there,’ Luhan apologises slowly. 

‘’S not your fault,’ Minseok says, keeping his gaze purposely directed at his feet. He can hear blood rushing past his ears, the white noise filling up the empty spaces between their sparse dialogue. 

Luhan moves to sit down beside him; in the cramped space Luhan sits so close to Minseok that he damn near stops breathing again. Though Luhan had had ample time to get changed, he is still in his sports gear. His half-bare thigh almost presses against Minseok’s; the proximity alone sends electricity sparking over the entire surface of his skin. Luhan tenderly lifts a hand to Minseok’s face, pressing delicately against the spot where the ball had struck him. 

‘Does that hurt?’ Luhan questions. 

Minseok nods weakly in response. A small ‘ah’ escapes his mouth when the other boy presses a little harder. Luhan immediately relents any force on the spot, instead trailing his fingers down Minseok’s cheek to his chin. He turns Minseok’s head towards him so that he is finally looking at Luhan. Minseok again realises how close they’re sitting and his heart beats fiercer still, a feat Minseok thought impossible. 

Before his head can catch up and process what’s going on, Luhan presses his lips lightly to Minseok’s, just barely brushing their mouths together. The older boy flutters his eyes shut in surprise, still watery lashes touching wetly against his cheeks. Luhan breaks the kiss first, looking at Minseok with an unreadable expression who in turn stares back at him with wide eyes. _Did that just happen?_

‘I’m gonna clean you up, alright?’ Luhan says softly, reaching for more tissue from the dispenser. 

He folds the piece into a neat square, then gently dabs at the other boy’s face. He wipes under his nose and over his cheeks, then beneath his eyes. Minseok stares intently into his lap. With hands folded, he hardly dares to move at all. 

Luhan stands and tucks the square of tissue into his pocket. 

‘Let’s go,’ he says, offering a hand to help Minseok up. 

Minseok takes it cautiously, making sure to put as little weight as possible in the boy’s hand. He pushes himself up from the ground and follows Luhan back through the changing room, still holding his hand. Luhan lets go to sling both their backpacks over each shoulder, insisting that he carries them both when Minseok protests.   
He walks him to his next class, only handing him his bag once they’re outside the door. 

‘Thank you,’ Minseok says quietly. ‘You didn’t have to do all that.’ 

‘Don’t mention it,’ Luhan says, with a shy but encouraging smile. He offers a small wave, then walks past Minseok and heads to his own class, still in sports gear. 

****

Minseok doesn’t know what he expected. He thought that maybe after what had happened that he and Luhan might talk, or at the very least somewhat acknowledge each other. But when Luhan passes him in the hallway with his group of cooler-than-thou friends, he doesn’t even spare Minseok a passing glance. 

He spends the following days with his head down, avoiding Luhan everywhere he can manage. He takes the long way to class just to avoid him, and sure it makes him late a couple of times and he has to face being called out in front of the entire class, but it’s better than accidently running into Luhan in the halls isn’t it? He can’t trust himself not to do something stupid, to stop and stare or worse to blurt out just how many times his mind has replayed and replayed and replayed the feeling of Luhan’s slightly chapped lips touching ever so briefly against his. No, he tells himself, it’s better if he just stays out of his way. 

But he can only avoid the boy for so long – out of the six classes Minseok has, three of them he has with Luhan. Literature, Gym, and Art. He never thought he’d come to dread those classes purely because of Luhan’s presence. Usually, he was the reason Minseok even bothered to come to school. Minseok could manage the classes by getting there early, leaving quickly, and keeping his head down, but the reality was he unfortunately still had to be in the actual class. 

And it’s one day in Art when Luhan finally pays attention to him. 

‘I just need to grab something from the staff room, I’ll be back in five minutes,’ their teacher says, before dashing from the room. 

As soon as he leaves, the other students’ voices raise in volume and they now converse noisily. Minseok continues working like the good student he is, carefully dragging wet strokes of electric cobalt paint over his canvas. The scraping sound of chairs against the ground greets his ears as students leave their seats; he assumes their owners are stretching or grabbing more paint from the shelves behind him. That is, until he thinks he feels someone looming over his shoulder. 

‘Looks good, Minseok,’ Luhan says friendlily, startling the aforementioned boy. 

‘Oh, ah, really? Um, thankyouverymuch, Luhan,’ he stutters in reply, blurring his words together and tripping over his own tongue. Inwardly, he winces at his own stupidity. If his forehead hadn’t read “I HAVE A HUGE CRUSH ON LUHAN” before, then it certainly did now. 

Luhan smiles and gives him a thumbs-up, then turns around to scan the shelves for paint. Minseok lets out a long breath, and tries to focus once again on his painting. Except now his hand is shaking. He huffs and holds his wrist with his free hand in order to stabilise it. He can’t afford to screw this painting up – it’s worth 15% of his final mark. And he really doesn’t want to disappoint his teacher. 

When he feels another presence looming over his shoulder a minute later, he isn’t stupid enough to wish it is Luhan again. Byun Baekhyun leans on the back of his chair, taking in Minseok’s painting with glinting, mischievous eyes. 

‘Wow, Minseok, that’s nice work!’ he says, a little overenthusiastically. Then again, Byun Baekhyun is always a little overenthusiastic. Still, there’s something in the tone of his voice that makes Minseok doubt he means what he says. It’s almost as if he was talking to a child. Minseok would be insulted if he wasn’t so intimidated. 

‘Ah, thanks Baekhyun,’ Minseok says cautiously. He makes an effort to keep working, but with Baekhyun leaning over him it’s a little hard to concentrate. 

‘Don’t you think you need some more colour though?’ Baekhyun says kindly, looking at Minseok with wide, earnest eyes. ‘I mean, it’s just that that’s what I’d do if I was you. But no pressure.’

‘Uh, well, the point of my painting is kind of that it’s all in blue, but I mean I guess I could add another colour if you think it’ll look better…’  
He barely gets to finish his sentence before Baekhyun cuts him off. 

‘Oh really? Then here, let me help!’ Baekhyun says, and suddenly he’s squeezing a tube of yellow paint, pulled out of nowhere, all over Minseok’s hard work, his expression still fixed in that stupid cheery rectangle smile. Minseok yelps and stands up in shock, flailing to grab Baekhyun’s hands to make him stop. 

‘There!’ Baekhyun says happily, looking at the mess of conflicting paint on Minseok’s ruined canvas. ‘Isn’t that so much better?’ 

All Minseok can do is squeak, opening and closing his mouth like a stunned fish. Fifteen percent of his grade! Down the drain!

‘Baekhyun!’ Luhan yells from the other side of the classroom, his expression thunderous. 

He storms over to where Baekhyun is standing smirking next to Minseok, who has managed to close his mouth but who’s eyes are now threatening to spill tears down his cheeks. 

‘What the hell did you do?’ Luhan asks, voice dark. 

‘I was just helping out, wasn’t I Minseokkie?’ Baekhyun looks to Minseok for agreement. When Minseok doesn’t offer a reaction, Baekhyun reaches over and grips Minseok’s jaw in his paint covered hand. He pushes Minseok’s head up and down, making him nod before the boy jerks away from him. 

‘Don’t worry, you don’t have to thank me,’ Baekhyun says as he tosses the squeezed paint tube on Minseok’s desk and goes to stride back to his seat, classmates snickering. Luhan sticks his arm out before he can get any further, fisting the collar of Baekhyun’s t-shirt in his hand. 

‘Woah,’ Baekhyun remarks confusedly. ‘Lu, calm down. You know I was just joking.’ 

‘You think that’s fucking funny?’ Luhan replies, eyes flashing. 

At precisely that moment the teacher walks back into the room, and upon seeing the scene before him – a very clearly upset Minseok, his sabotaged artwork, and Luhan looking like he’s about to murder Baekhyun – instantly sets his jaw. 

‘Luhan, come with me,’ he says, voice severe and stony, leaving no room for argument. 

Luhan looks at him disbelievingly for a second, opening his mouth, but then reluctantly makes his way to the front of the classroom. 

‘The rest of you will wait in silence until I return,’ he orders. Luhan casts an apologetic glance towards Minseok, who desperately wants to blurt that Luhan isn’t the one in the wrong. But his tiny voice is stuck in his throat, he’s stuck frozen to the spot and the only thing he can do is watch Luhan turn and dejectedly follow their teacher out of the room and down the hall. 

‘Wow, I knew he had a soft spot for the weird kids, but I didn’t know he liked them that much,’ Baekhyun scoffs, returning to his seat. 

Minseok tries to scrape the yellow paint from his ruined canvas without crying. 

****

Minseok tosses and turns late into the night; his sleep – when he can get any – is troubled and disturbed. Every moment with Luhan echoes about his head; the caress of his delicate hand trailing down his cheek, the way his warm breath tickled when he spoke so close to Minseok’s ear, the way he stood up for him, or how he spoke to him so gently, as if he really, truly cared about him and wanted to make sure he was alright. It was something Minseok rarely ever experienced. 

But the guilt over the trouble he had caused Luhan was overwhelming him. He’d overheard Luhan’s little gang in the hallway enraged that Luhan got detention twice a week for 2 weeks, and he can’t help but imagine that if he wasn’t there Luhan would’ve been fine. 

As he lies awake in his bed for what is probably at least the fourth consecutive night, Minseok stares at the ceiling and wonders what he should do to ask forgiveness from Luhan. Should he ask to speak to him? Call him? Message him? He must’ve typed out a hundred different apology texts to Luhan by now, none of them sounding right or meeting his expectations. Maybe, Minseok thought as yet again tears threatened to spill over his lash-line, he should just drop out of school and remove himself from Luhan’s life. Or from the earth altogether. 

He rolls over onto his side, punching the pillow to release some of the frustration he’s been accumulating. At first, he’d thought Luhan was just messing around with the weird chubby kid that nobody likes for a cheap laugh. The overly sensitive know-it-all who can’t do or say anything right and has nosebleeds in the middle of class. He’d imagined him leaning over the cafeteria table, relaying to his prettier-than-thou friends what happened in the cubicle and how the boy reacted. He could almost hear their disbelieving laughs. Luhan was probably sickened by him and had to brush his teeth four times that afternoon. 

Still, he couldn’t – or rather didn’t want to – believe that the other boy had so easily been able to fake being so caring and kind. And he couldn’t shake Baekhyun’s comment about Luhan’s supposed ‘soft spot’. 

Whichever way Minseok looks at it, he’s the one who was wrong. It was his fault for being so disgusting. If he just hadn’t let himself get so fat and dumb and wasn’t such a fucking smart ass, he wouldn’t have any problems and he’d have friends that wouldn’t let jerks ruin his paintings and maybe, just maybe, Luhan could possibly consider loving him. 

Hot, sharp tears prick the back of Minseok’s eyes, threatening to spill down his cheeks and onto his clean pillowcase. He rolls over onto his back once again, pressing   
his wrists into his eye sockets in an effort to hold back the tears. He’s sick of crying, sick of being a pathetic fucking mess every night and not being able to do anything about it. 

 

_Crack!_

 

Minseok startles, flinching at the sound from outside his window. What on earth was that? He stands, shaking just a little from his fright, and quickly shuffles over to his window to check out whatever made that noise. It was dark as anything out there; he lifted his hands to the window to frame his vision as he presses his face against the glass to see outside. 

A figure stood on his front lawn, bent at the waist, and Minseok flinched again in shock. What could this person be doing? Suddenly, Minseok has a very rational fear for his life. That is until the figure straightens, and the dim streetlights shining through the trees catch his features. 

Luhan. 

He raises an arm and pelts a pebble at Minseok’s window again, and even though Minseok knew it was coming it still gives him a fright. He pushes open the window as far as it will go and leans out. 

‘What are you doing?’ he hisses, more than a little alarmed and panicked. If his parents hear the racquet, he’d be a goner. Not to mention Luhan had no right to show up at his house, in the middle of the night no less, and what? Try to break his windows? Minseok looks around fearfully in case he’d bought friends to back him up. Maybe this is when Minseok gets dragged out into the street and beaten up for being such a sickening disgrace to society and for getting Luhan in detention. 

The boy just lifts his arm again and gestures for Minseok to come down. He huffs and closes the window. While a small part of him is practically giddy that Luhan is here, he knows it’s not going to be anything good. Although, he thinks, even if it results in him being beaten to a pulp at least he’ll have closure. Minseok hurriedly pulls on socks and shoes, not caring that they don’t match. He makes his way as quietly as he can down the stairs, praying they don’t squeak and alert his presence to the entire neighbourhood. Before leaving he pauses outside his parent’s room, quickly whispers that he loves them, just in case he doesn’t end up coming back alive. Minseok doesn’t much care about his own life anymore, but he can’t bear to think what his parents would feel if something really happened to him. 

He exits through the back door, circling around to the front of the house to meet Luhan. Minseok’s heart unauthorizedly leaps into his throat once Luhan is in front of him; Minseok can barely even greet the boy and stands staring at his feet. Luhan grabs his hand and tows him over to the big oak tree in the corner of the yard. He tilts his head back, staring up into the tree. 

‘Is this safe?’ he asks Minseok. 

‘I mean, I think so? I’m not too sure, it’s been a while since I was up there, but I guess so? I mean I don’t really–’ he rambles, stopping once he realises Luhan’s already scaled the tree and climbed onto the platform his father had built for him years ago. 

Lying on his stomach, he leans over the ledge and offers both hands to Minseok. 

‘I’ll pull you up,’ he says, thrusting his hands further towards the older boy. 

'Oh, I don’t know, I mean, I’m, well I’m really very heavy and I don’t want you to hurt yourself –’ 

‘Min, just take my hand. I’m strong, ok?’ Luhan reassures him. 

Minseok vaguely wonders whether Luhan is going to push him out of this tall tree to his death, then gingerly takes his hands anyway. He’s immediately gripped hard and lifted off the ground by the other boy. He lets out an indignant squeak as he’s hauled onto the platform, kicking his legs and struggling to pull himself fully onto the platform. He really wished Luhan hadn’t done that – now he knows how heavy Minseok’s let himself become. 

Now that he is up, there is a silence between the two. 

‘Luhan,’ Minseok starts slowly. ‘Please don’t tell me you’re going to push me down from here and kill me.’

‘What?’ Luhan laughs. ‘Min, I’m not here to hurt you. Promise.’ 

‘Oh, okay. Then, um, how do you know where I live?’ Minseok asks tactlessly, averting his eyes and hoping Luhan doesn’t notice his flaming cheeks. 

‘I saw you walking home from school one afternoon,’ Luhan supplies coolly. 

There’s a minute of silence, and then,

‘I’m sorry I got you in trouble,’ Minseok chokes out, throat stupidly closing up as he tries not to get upset. God, he’s already fucked up Luhan’s life enough and now he can’t even apologise to him properly! _Idiot,_ he curses at himself. 

‘Hey, it’s okay, really,’ Luhan says gently. 

When Minseok just keeps staring at the floor, chin wobbling as he holds back stupid tears, Luhan reaches out and touches his arm softly. 

‘It’s alright, I’m not worried about it. And if trying to protect you gets me detention, then I’ll have the worst record in the entire school.’ Luhan grins a little at Minseok, trying to meet his gaze. 

‘Min, look at me.’ he says, voice soft yet serious. 

Minseok glances up at him, barely able to hold eye contact with the boy. His insides are on fire and his arm tingles where Luhan is still touching him, and he really doesn’t know if he can take any more. 

‘Minseok, I- I’ve wanted to tell you something for a while so just hear me out. I’ve seen how other kids treat you. And I’ve seen how you treat yourself. And, if it’s okay with you, I want to protect you. From everything that can hurt you.’ Luhan says with a slight tremble. 

‘Why?’ Minseok asks. Why on earth would this most perfect boy ever want anything to do with him?

‘Because,’ Luhan starts, and Minseok gets the most adorable view of Luhan's ears turning red and him looking down at his sneaker clad feet. ‘Because, I love you.’ he finishes. 

Wait a second. Minseok can’t believe his ears. Luhan? In love with him?

‘Luhan, please don’t play games with me.’ Minseok says dejectedly. ‘It’s not funny.’

‘I promise that I’m not, Min,’ Luhan says. He takes Minseok’s hands in his own, turning Minseok to face him properly. 

Then, Luhan leans forward and kisses Minseok. 

Just like before, he’s unbelievably gentle, never pressing too hard or too insistently. It’s chaste and sweet, and Minseok’s head is spinning uncontrollably. Everything he’d thought was true about his world was being tipped upside-down on its head and all he can feel is Luhan, Luhan, Luhan. His kiss, his touch, his warm puff of breath when they break apart, and Minseok allows himself to smile just a little bit. Their faces linger close to one another. 

‘You really really like me?’ Minseok squeaks. 

‘Yes, Min,’ Luhan laughs. ‘Since like, fourth grade!’ 

‘Really?!’ Minseok shrills disbelievingly, his smile now growing larger and threatening to take over his entire face. 

‘Will you be mine, then? Will you let me protect you?’ Luhan looks at Minseok expectantly. 

Minseok just nods, then throws his arms around Luhan and buries his face in his chest. Lu chuckles lightly, pressing his nose into Min’s shoulder. 

‘I love you too,’ Minseok mumbles from Luhan’s shirt. 

Neither Minseok nor Luhan were under any impression that this was going to be easy for them. But now that they had each other they were sure they could handle anything. And in that moment, and many more to come, neither had ever been happier.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading my tragic little fic, I hope that you enjoyed it. Please comment if you did! It really makes my day :)   
> Have a wonderful day everyone! <3  
> xx


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